


Talk, Drink, or Leave

by CrownBeed



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Emo Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, Hux Kylo and Phasma have defected from Snoke, I'll take suggestions for more tags if you think them necessary, M/M, Prompt Fill, Some humour, relationship troubles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 20:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7238140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrownBeed/pseuds/CrownBeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts:<br/>36. “here’s a glass of whatever.”<br/>52. “life really sucks. feel better.”<br/>73. “so… what are we now?”</p><p>I paraphrased some, but did include them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk, Drink, or Leave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dracadancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracadancer/gifts).



> Un-Beta'd  
> Also I headcanon that Hux is an angry crier - that is semi-relevant to know.

“You’re preparing for a fun night, by the looks of it.”

Kylo’s eyes slowly drifted from where the waitress was setting down his third pair of shots to find a young Togruta female leaning against the opening of his booth, effectively pinning him in.

He wasn’t a fan of such tactics.

“No.”

The waitress grimaced and left quickly, the Togruta pouted dramatically before rolling her hip against the wood she was leaning on – a move that accentuated the taught, but greying, skin of her stomach. Based on the establishment's reputation and the state of the planet Kylo had taken refuge on the girl was probably suffering from malnutrition and trying to make some money to appease some debt or other. Smuggling dens attracted the scum of the galaxy.

 _I fit right in_.

“I could make it a fun night for you.” She offered.

“No, you couldn’t.”

She sighed and plopped herself down in the booth across from him, he lifted his chin so that when he scowled his hood wouldn’t hide it – she wasn’t deterred.

“You’ve been here every night for at least three days and have had the most expensive alcohol they serve before stumbling into the rooms you’ve already paid for.” She said quietly, tracing designs he didn’t recognize with her finger on the tabletop, “You have been alone that entire time, I thought you might like some company.”

Kylo hummed noncommittally, “You’ve been watching me.”

“I have.” She agreed.

He snorted, “I won’t give you my money.”

“Life really sucks; I just wanted to make you feel better.”

Kylo’s response was cut off by a familiar, pithy voice.

“I believe he said he wasn’t interested.”

Kylo tensed and fought every instinct that screamed at him to blow the place apart and flee. Hux wasn’t supposed to be here; that was rather the point of running off into the far corners of the galaxy to drink. He was quietly panicking so badly that he didn’t even hear what it was the General said that had the Togruta halfway across the bar, throwing him a frightened look over her shoulder.

“Really, Ren?” Hux asked, “I rather expected you to have run off to destroy a colony, not your liver. Rage suits you better than…whatever this is.”

There was fondness hidden underneath the sarcasm and it felt like being flayed by a rusty knife.

Kylo hunched his shoulders forward so he could hide deeper in the shadows of his cowl and reached for one of the filled glasses in response. Unfortunately a gloved hand pressed down on it, preventing him from lifting it and the General sat primly across from him.

“I think not,” He said, “we need to talk.”

Kylo turned his groan of frustration into a quiet sigh before relinquishing the drink and slouching back in his seat, “I thought we already had.”

“If memory serves that was more yelling than talking,” Hux smiled self-deprecatingly, a rare expression that didn’t suit his uniform or title.

“You threw a fork at me.”

Hux frowned, “…you caught it. I thought that was... impressive?”

Kylo grunted but didn’t respond: he watched the General as passively as he could and did his best to ignore the spikes of hurt and self-doubt that their argument had caused. He noted the rhythmic flexing of Hux’s left arm and knew the General was digging his thumb into the palm of his right hand – a habit formed when stressed and unable to scratch his palms with his nails – and hated himself for knowing the other man so well and feeling any sort of guilt for causing that stress.

Hux wouldn’t meet his eyes and the silence stretched until Kylo sighed and pushed one of the glasses towards the other man.

“Talk, drink, or leave.”

Hux eyed the drink warily, “What is it?”

“It’s a shot of…” Kylo blinked, realizing he really had no idea what he had been drinking, _‘the best you have’_ wasn’t much of a descriptor. With a wave of his hand he motioned towards the glass and lifted his own, “whatever. It's alcohol.”

“It smells vile.” Hux grimaced when Ren put his empty glass back on the table.

“It’s alcohol.” Kylo smirked - the pleasant tingle filling his limbs, “talk, drink, or leave.”

The General declined and pushed the drink away with a finger before folding his hands between them on the table and saying what he came to say, “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have that night and reacted in a manner unbefitting of both what you deserve and my own morals. You were in your rooms that entire day, so you must not have known, but I had spent the majority of that morning and early afternoon trying to subvert disaster on – it doesn’t matter. I failed and we lost several squadrons of tie-fighters and an entire colony due to a mole and it… upset me. I was on break to eat supper before heading back to lead the search when you arrived and I…took it out on you.”

Kylo grunted and sipped at the shot-glass Hux had declined, raising a questioning eyebrow when the General didn’t immediately continue.

“You were gentle with me and I wanted to fight.” Hux said haltingly, his obviously rehearsed apology clearly going off-script, “So I fought and when you fought back I allowed myself to get angrier because-just because. I didn’t want to go back to work with red-rimmed eyes and I blamed you for giving me what I had obviously wanted. I don’t – I wasn’t _reasonable_. I should not have hinted at knowing all the things Snoke had convinced you were weaknesses.” The General glared at where his own hands were clenching so hard the leather was straining against his knuckles.

“You said you didn’t need me – that my skills were ‘primarily useless.’” Kylo recalled monotonously, “And that I was probably more of a personal hindrance than a help.”

Hux flinched as though the Knight had slapped him, “I lied; I was aiming to hurt.”

“You succeeded.”

“I know,” Hux sniffed, looking adequately chagrined, “I was hoping to make amends…but I have found it difficult to do so when you are not on the Finalizer with me.”

“Have you known where I was this entire time?”

“Yes.”

“Why come now?” Kylo asked, “why not the next day? Or the day after?”

Hux finally dragged his gaze up to meet Ren’s, “I realized you weren’t going to come back on your own.”

Ren frowned, hating the bruises under the General’s eyes and how taught his shoulders were; hating that he hated it. Hating that he knew he was going to give in because everything Hux had said that night contradicted everything he said the rest of the time they were together and Ren wasn’t blind enough to _not_ realize that the one instance of Hux saying all the wrong things didn’t indicate he didn’t mean it when he said all of the right things. He hated that he missed the lower atmospheric pressure of the Finalizer and Hux’s sheets and body and bathtub.

With a put upon sigh, Ren climbed out of the booth and ignored the spinning of the room to the best of his abilities.

“You brought a shuttle?” he asked the General.

Hux scrambled uncharacteristically out of the booth as well and hovered uncertainly, “Of course.”

“Well, let’s go then.” Ren said, slinging an arm around Hux’s shoulders for support, “I’ve got a date with your tub.”

Hux frowned, gingerly putting an arm around the Knight’s waist and leading him towards the door “Okay?”

“Oh! And have your minions return with my shuttle.”

“They aren’t- never mind,” Hux huffed, sending a message via his datapad with one hand “What exactly, what are we...now?”

“What we’ve always been.” Ren frowned, “but you aren’t forgiven.”

“I didn’t think I was – but this seems too…easy, I expected you to argue more.”

Ren snorted, “Hux, I’ve been drinking for several days. I am going to be _very_ hung-over for a _very_ long time. Right now I just want to go home and have a bath before I make you suffer with me.”

Hux ducked his head to hide his relieved smile as they made their way to his shuttle.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on [Tumblr](http://crownbeed.tumblr.com/)  
> Want to share this story on Tumblr? [Click Here](http://crownbeed.tumblr.com/post/147629692495/talk-drink-or-leave)


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